A Father's Fear
by weepingangel9578
Summary: No father should have to bury their child, yet by some cruel twist of fate, Splinter found himself doing exactly that. CHARACTER DEATH nothing bad, just slight mentions of blood and extremely non-graphic fighting.


**So here's a little one-shot to keep busy in between other stories. **

**Please, please, please send me ideas for a story! You can find the information at the end of chapter 8 of my story **_**Sick Day**_**! PM me or post it here as a review just send me ideas!**

**Thanks and enjoy!**

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"_Father, look out!"_

Splinter jerked awake from yet another nightmare. He sat rigidly in his bed, panting. He sighed and pressed his withered hands to his face. He immediately regretted it, for as soon as he closed his eyes he was once again plagued by horrible memories.

The old rat pulled his head up and looked around the room. The candles had been blown out and the single lamp in the room had been turned off. It plunged the small rectangular room into unfriendly darkness. The shelves holding various weapons, paintings, and other artifacts were shadowed and seemed to be collapsing in on the selves, as if under a great weight. _Maybe I see them as I see myself_ the skilled ninja thought. Then his gaze fell on the small table sitting a few feet from his tired body. His eyes widened and filled with tears as he studied its contents. He had to look away for the pain was too near.

Resting on the table was all that was left of…._him_.

Even thinking of their name hurt. Splinter fell back against his makeshift bed with a heavy thump. He knew he needed sleep, but found he didn't want to close his eyes. The nightmares were too much. But despite his best efforts his eyelids began to droop and he was once again taken by the darkness of sleep.

"_Father, look out!" _

_The sound of bullets embedding themselves in skin_

_One, two, three_

_The thump of a barely breathing loved one hitting the ground_

_The final thoughts and wishes of a dying soul, far too young to be taken_

"_S-Stay together and b-be strong. I-I love y-you a-all so m-much."_

_The heart breaking wails and screams of a family mourning someone lost_

_The long trip home carrying a lifeless body_

_Cleaning the bloody wounds_

_Looking into the piercing eyes, that once held so much life, now glazed over with the cloud of death_

Splinter awoke once more.

He thrust his hand towards his face and found streaks of tears covering his cheeks. His ears swiveled as the sounds of someone approaching reached him. Splinter composed himself to his best ability and let the figure outside his door know to enter.

"Enter my son."

His burden of guilt grew as he saw the pale and hollow looking face of Raphael peak through the crack of the opening door. He wiped hastily at his face and sniffed as he spoke.

"Master, 'sniff' we are 'sniff' finished packing, and are 'sniff' ready to go."

"Thank you my son."

Raphael entered the room and helped his sensei up. Splinter grasped his son for support and started to walk from the room.

Suddenly the red banded turtle stopped and went rigid. Splinter looked questioningly at his son.

"Raphael?"

"…."

The old rat's frown deepened. He followed his sons gaze and he to felt even more disheartened. Raphael was staring at the table he had been studying moments ago. Splinter placed and hand on his son's shoulder and slowly approached the table. He reached out and delicately grabbed the beloved belongings of his lost son.

Splinter wobbled back to his son and gently placed the bandana in his shaking hands. He covered his son's hands with his own and closed them into a ball around the worn piece of fabric.

He felt tears spill from his eyes as he watched them fall from Raphael's. He pulled his grieving son into a fierce hug and whispered in his ear.

"I know your grief Raphael, but we must now lay your brother to rest. It is a final respect we can pay him."

Raphael looked up through blurred eyes and nodded painfully. He reached out his arm, which was taken by his master, and the pair floated through the empty lair and up to the battle shell holding the remaining parties of their broken family.

Michelangelo immediately flew to his father's side and wept. The last member of the Hamato's looked back at them longingly, but started the engine and began the long journey to the end of his brother.

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Six forms stood in the morning mist of the large field by an old farmhouse, outlined by the oranges, pinks, reds, and yellows of the rising sun.

At first glance it would have come across as a family, or group of friends, watching the beautiful morning sun, but if one moved closer they would have found a much darker event unfolding.

Casey had his arms wrapped generously around April, who was crying softly into her hands. The two friends stood for a moment more, before giving their final words of comfort t the grieving family and morosely walking back to the farmhouse.

The broken family shrunk once more. Now it was only Splinter, Raphael, Michelangelo, and Donatello that remained.

Their loving older brother had been cruelly ripped from them far too soon. They all stood looking down at their brother's grave. Michelangelo was leaning against his immediate older brother, both their shoulders uncontrollably shaking as they cried. Raphael stood tall, trying to be strong for his younger brothers, but anyone with a few feet could see that the red clad turtle had torrents of tears falling from his eyes. Splinter was crying as well. He felt uncontrollable grief and guilt for the loss of his eldest son.

Leonardo had given his life to protect him. He had thrown away his entire life to save a rat, who in their own mind believed he had lived too long already.

_No father should have to bury their child, _yet by some cruel twist of fate, Splinter found himself doing exactly that.

He turned back to the grave and memories of Leonardo surfaced from some of the deepest parts of his mind.

_Splinter looking in as a five year old turtle, clad in blue, comforted a younger brother who had fallen from his skateboard and scratched his knee. Splinter knew then that Leonardo would make an excellent leader for his brothers._

_The smile on his son's face as he was given his first pair of katana, they were wooden at that, but the young turtle couldn't have been more excited. _

_Walking into the dojo at six o'clock and finding a young Leonardo training viciously to perfect a kata he had been having trouble with._

Splinter smiled sadly as he remembered his son. Unfortunately his memories took a turn for the worse. As if they were a slideshow on fast forward, Splinter's memories flew by until they stopped on the night Leonardo had died, a mere eight hours ago.

_The Hamato family running along the rooftop, headed home after an excellent night with their friends. They were about to drop into the nearest alley and head down to the sewers when their attention was grabbed by the sounds of windows being smashed._

_Leonardo, Raphael, Michelangelo, and Donatello raced to the side of the building they were on and cringed at what they saw. A young women's shop was being broke into by a gang of purple dragons. They had the owner hog tied and at gun point, the tears were visible on her face._

_The four ninja were about to drop down and join the fray when they were stopped by a frail hand. Leonardo looked quizzically into the face of his sensei and raised a brow in question._

"_Are you sure Master?"_

"_Yes Leonardo, I appreciate your concern but I would very much like to help this young woman."_

_Leonardo nodded apprehensively and leapt into battle. _

_Things were going well they had released the store keeper and were finishing off the last of the Purple Dragons. Leonardo was keeping his watchful eye on each member of his family, doing his job as the leader to keep them safe. Donatello had finished off all but one and Michelangelo was playfully messing with Raphael as he beat the crap out of a struggling gangster. His gaze then fell on Master Splinter. He was holding his own quite well, but he was too caught up in dealing with his opponent to notice the lone gunman standing by the lamp post on the corner. _

_Leonardo froze as he saw the gunman aim for his father's head. He rushed forward and yelled for his sensei to move._

"_Father, look out!"_

_He became desperate as he knew there wasn't enough time for his sensei to move, so he did the one thing he could._

_As Splinter delivered the final blow to his opponent he was folded into the shadow of his eldest son as he blocked him from the gunman._

_BANG, BANG, BANG_

_Three shots, three presses of a button and Leonardo crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath through a thick layer of blood climbing up his throat._

Splinter shook himself from the memory and wiped at his eyes.

"I can't believe he's gone…"

Michelangelo trailed off as sobs reclaimed his voice.

"I am sorry my sons. I am to blame for this horrific mess."

Splinter bowed his head in shame. He couldn't face his sons any longer.

"No."

Splinter jerked his head up to find Raphael standing beside him staring into his palm.

"What…sensei…." Don whispered.

"No father. It wasn't your fault."

"My son-"

"It was that bloody gunman's fault, not yours."

Splinter looked upon his son and smiled weakly. He watched as Raphael walked over to Michelangelo, still holding out his open palm.

"And Mikey…he's never really gone. You know Leo, he'll be up there watching us all until we join him. He will never stop looking out for us. He's Leo…" Raphael paused as his voice cracked. He looked up to the sky to collect himself before continuing. "And most importantly he's our brother. Always has been, and always will."

Raphael finally showed what he had been clutching in his hand.

It was Leo's mask.

He sniffled briefly before he walked over to his brother's grave and tied the blue cloth around the marker. He stepped back and admired his work. A smile played itself onto the red clad turtle's face.

"Come my sons."

Splinter gestured towards the house and turned to leave. Michelangelo and Donatello followed suit, while Raphael hung back for a few more moments.

He looked at his brother's grave one more time before smiling and running after his brother's.

As the healing family grew smaller and smaller on the horizon the mornings light reflected gently off of the words carved in stone at the head of the marker.

_Leonardo Hamato_

_Beloved brother, son, and dearest friend_

_Was lost in body but never in spirit and one must always remember,_

_Those which are lost, can always be found_

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